Ideas Presented
Log Title: Ideas Presented Characters: Acid Storm, Banshee, Shockwave, Sprocket, Magnus Location: Ruins of Tarn - Southern Hemisphere - Cybertron Date: November 29, 2017 TP: Kill All Humans TP Summary: Acid Storm and Banshee present their ideas to Shockwave. Category:2017 Category:Kill All Humans TP Category:Logs As logged by Acid Storm - Wednesday, November 29, 2017, 7:52 PM Ruins of Tarn - Southern Hemisphere - Cybertron :Tarn was one of Cybertron's many city-states before the advent of the Great War and was ruled by a military dictator named Shockwave. :War had broken out between Tarn and Vos despite an Overlord's attempts to lay the foundation of peace between Cybertron's city states by holding the State Games, which were arena tournaments. :After Tarn and Vos had destroyed each other with photon missiles, Megatron recruited many of the survivors into his new Decepticon army by laying blame on Iacon. Acid Storm travels out to meet Banshee. He walks quickly and with purpose, the wings on his back quivering as he moves. His crimson optics sweep the ruins as he approaches, taking in the improvements made as Shockwave slowly recovers Tarn and transforms it back into the thriving hive of scientific inquiry it once was. "Hello!" Acid calls out as he approaches. "Anyone home?" As he gets close, Sprocket pulls up next to him. "Steig in den Zug," he says, jerking his thumb at the long train of bombs and ordnance he's towing. "Ich fahre mit dir." At the front of the train there are two empty carts. Assuming Acid Storm either understands the gesture, or reads the subtitles, Sprocket gives him a ride to the revetment. Banshee's painting is progressing; the Fallen is looking suitably menacing with the infernal Unicronian light illuminating his ribs from the inside. He's also looking rather angry, reeling back against an impact, possibly from Shockwave's cannon. Banshee herself is taking a break, sitting in one of her chairs while Hannah prepares her a drink and Magnus reads reports. Banshee lights a cobalt enercig on a long black holder, and then waves to Acid Storm "Ah! Guten tag!" She smiles "Kommen sie. Sitzen." The subtitles read: "Get on the train, I'll give you a ride." 'Good day! Come. Sit' Acid Storm takes the train, his wings continuing to quiver as he rides in to meet Banshee. He grins as he takes in Banshee's progress. "Hallo!" he calls out again. "Das ist sehr nett," he says carefully, raising his optic ridges questioningly. "I might have something to help us," he adds, switching to Vos-accented Decepticon standard. Magnus looks at Acid Storm, and then pours a second cube of energon. It's a very pure, but unrefined blend, that's then been flavoured with carefully measured amounts of heavy metals. It's essentially Cybertronian coffee. "Danke, danke. Oh? Do tell, bitte!" She smiles, sipping her cube. "Danke Magnus, sehr gut. If you like you can go back to designing zer organ, ja?" The Gumby runs off happily. Acid Storm accepts the stimulating drink with a smile. "Well," he continues, "If we were looking for a way to convince Lord Megatron to focus more on specific humans, we couldn't have asked for a more timely opportunity." Acid pulls up a Terran media broadcast, and tightbeams it to Banshee. Banshee nods thoughtfully as she receives the broadcast. "Interesting, ja, zo zey are all zere, in vun place?" She sips her drink, nodding. "I sink ein vun-two punch... a large distraction attack on vun flank, vhile ein strike group comes in low unt under zer radar to strike at zer Vitvicky family directly. Even if ve don't kill a single humam, a single bomb landing innerhalb Metroplex himself vill send a strong message: You are NICHT safe." Acid Storm nods. "Exactly. Shall we bring our plan to Commander Shockwave?" Banshee nods, downing her cube in one go and standing. "Ja! Let's." Throne Room - Castle Decepticon :The Throne Room of Castle Decepticon is a large, imposing chamber. Light filters in from blaster-slits built into the walls for defense from attacks. Footsteps echo across a vast floor decorated with a large inlaid Decepticon sigil. The actual throne is mounted on a large dais, requiring supplicants to climb several steps to approach the Emperor of Destruction. Standing around the room are statues of fabled Decepticon generals past who watch over proceedings in eternal silence. Shockwave is, once again, in the throne room. Isn't that neat? It's likely that he has gone somewhere else in Castle Decepticon during this time, perhaps taken a stroll through the metallic countryside once or twice, but none can say. That is because Shockwave goes where he chooses, and that is where he is needed - which might have been in this exact room for a long time. That isn't important, though. What is important is that instead of typing into a datapad and looking outside, he is now seated in front of a large computer screen and running numerous calculations. With any luck, he's discovered why kids love Apple Jacks even though they don't taste like Apple. Acid Storm arrives with Banshee, flying to Castle Decepticon and landing just outside. He transforms and approaches the throne room, adapting the proper level of protocol and respect. It may or may not matter to Shockwave -- with the military operations commander, it's always hard to tell -- but Storm displays all customary courtesy just in case. Shockwave will no doubt have heard Banshee's approach; there's almost nobody else in Cybertron's skies who makes the particular growl of piston engine and propellor. The gentle chirp of rubber on ground heralds her touchdown outside the Castle and a few moments later, the Stukacon and Acid Storm step into the throne room, her heels echoing back off the walls. "I vould love to sing a concert in here vun day." She whispers to her compatriot. "Zer acoustics are amazing." While Acid's salute is no doubt the traditional Decepticon one, Banshee's salute comes circa 1940s Germany. "Heil Megatron!" She announces as her heels snap together, the icing on the cake. Yes, it was indeed difficult, if not impossible, to miss the approach of Banshee. Soundwave would no doubt be grabbing his head and prancing around in great distress. Tapping in a final set of numbers with his unarmed hand, the purple one turns his seat and salutes with his arm cannon across his chest. "Hail Megatron," he echoes, "Acid Storm. Banshee. I trust you have a proposal for me." He remains seated for now, clearly intent on continuing his work once this is over. Acid Storm nods quickly before firing a quick glance at Banshee. "Yes, sir," he says rapidly, wings fluttering. "We have a proposal." The normally-smooth speaker pauses and stutters slightly. "We feel, if he agrees, that Lord Megatron should narrow his strike -- to focus his wrath on specifically those humans who have dared to defy him directly -- the clan that calls themselves Witwicky." Storm glances at Banshee. Banshee nods in agreement. "Ja." She takes over, stepping forward. "Instead of an attack against a species vich, in time, could be domesticated unt maade useful, ve believe ein precision strike against Metroplex - unt specifically zer Vitvicky family - is a much better use of resources zan exterminating a species." She calls up a holoprojector, displaying an image of Autobot City "I admit, I am biased. Zer humans sheltered me, fuelled me... gave me ein foe to fight ven all vos lost and I thought I voz alone. I vould be dead if it vos not for humans." She pulls out her riding crop, and indicates a point on Autobot City's western side, in a blind spot from Metroplex' main gate weaponry, but still fairly heavily defended due to its proximity to his transformation cog. "Zer main vave vill strike here or at a similar point of strategic interest, vith the intention of damaging his any vital machinery zey can reach. But zat is not ze primary objective. Zer primary objective is to draw out zer main Autobot strength to confront zem so zat ser second vave, coming in low from behind Alcatraz, can attack relatively unopposed to strike at zer human quarters, medical bay, unt command centre vere zer Vitvicky family are most likely to be, barring intelligence assets locatink zem more precisely. Zey get in, strike, unt get out... even if human casualties are non existent, zer message vill be sent: Zer enemies of Megatron haff novhere to hide." Shockwave sits in utter silence as he takes in the proposal. Internally, he concedes it has merit. He has no love in the slightest for the Witwickys; indeed, they have often been the root of numerous troubles for the Decepticon war effort and a clear source of affection and courage for the Autobots. Slowly, a hand lifts to rest upon the lower edge of Shockwave's cubic face. "A surgical strike then, Metroplex or no, against the Witwicky family. That is intriguing, especially in light of..." He trails off and turns back to the computer, quickly calling up the written report by the Associated Press about Spike effectively challenging Megatron to try and attack his family. "Megatron abhors defiance," Shockwave remarks coldly, "He has no doubt read this story by now. I calculate a high percentage of likelihood that he will be stirred by your proposal." Acid Storm jerks his head up and down again, somewhat spasmodically. "Our thoughts exactly, Commander." He shoots another quick glance at Banshee. "I would volunteer for either strike team, as needed, sir," he continues. "Banshee's strategy seems sound. IS sound," Storm asserts more confidently, raising his chin slightly. Banshee smiles quietly. "Precision terror ist what I do." She nods. "I cannot take all zer credit. Zer credit for zer idea is entirely Acid Storm's. It has been too long since I flew in Earth's skies." Shockwave stares at the screen a moment longer, recording the data file for the article in case he needs it. "Excellent work, both of you," he remarks, turning from the console and rising to his full, bulky height. "I will bring your proposal to Megatron. Though I find merit in it, and am confident that Megatron will, it is ultimately his will that will be done." He pauses, "Which I'm sure that both of you understand. Return to your duties and await my orders, if any, on this matter." Acid Storm's optics widen, and cooling fans that had been suppressed start whirring again in his acid-green chest. "Yessir!" he responds quickly, bowing deeply and then shooting a triumphant glance at Banshee. He then backs quickly out of the throne room, wings quivering rapidly with excitement and delight. Banshee nods "Jawohl!" She snaps her heels together and salutes, following Acid Storm out. She doesn't let herself show any sign of trumphantness until she's out of the throne room, at which point she breaks out into a huge grin and pulls out a flask from under one wing. She takes a swig, and hands it over. "Zer 'good' stuff, ja? Refined from Luftwaffe benzin in late '44." She coughs a few times, chuckling. It's certainly not up to Encore's standards, still bearing hints of the gasoline smell and flavour. Shockwave watches in silence as both of them leaves, the throne room once again growing quiet. He tilts his head toward the report, the glimmering text reflected back across his face and torso. A hand extends, clicking a key to close the human drivel. His work briefly forgotten, Shockwave turns to one of the defensive windows to the outside of Cybertron and crosses his arms behind his back, left with much to ponder. Acid smiles as he accepts the drink, sipping it carefully and taking a moment to enjoy it before responding. He offers it back. "We may have just saved the human race," he laughs. "Think the humans will give us much credit for it?" His wing-fluttering starts to finally calm down. Banshee shrugs "Probably not, but such is zer fate of zer benevolent conqueror. Ve'll be hated for it, of course." She sips the drink again. She shrugs. "Until ve haff conquered zer galaxy, unt every species is vorking together, I doubt zey'll even know vot ve did. No bother. I did not sign up for zer glory, you know?" Acid nods. "I understand that, and I can appreciate it." He lowers his voice slightly. "To be honest, I feel there are too many Decepticons in it for the glory instead of the right reasons." Banshee sips her flask again and offers it over. "Ja, I know vot you mean. Unt too many in it just for zer violence. I mean I like ein gut fight as much as zer next Decepticon, but..." Acid accepts the drink with a smile, and sips it appreciatively. "Which positions do you see each of us taking in the strike? I don't mind following your lead on the planning -- assuming command leaves the details to us, of course." Banshee looks thoughtful "I don't know. I'm not exactly fast, so I imagine I'll be vith zer strike force, coming in low. Speed vould hinder zere y'know? Don't vant to make too much noise." Acid offers the drink back. He frowns slightly, optic ridges knitting together. "I've been reformatted for Earth terrain, but I haven't had much experience seeding acid storms in a Terran atmosphere," he admits thoughtfully. "I'm pretty fast, but I can adapt to either strike position." Banshee nods "I am slow, but agile, unt devastating." She nods, sipping the flask again. "Ve'll see. Ve haff submitted zer plan, ve can only vait." Acid nods quickly. "I'm surprised how quickly Commander Shockwave accepted the plan. I don't think I've ever heard a compliment from him like that. He's..." Acid pauses, frowning. "He's certainly unique among Decepticon command," he allows. Banshee nods "I sink he sees zer vasteful nature of zer original plan. Effective, true, but vasteful. I sink he vos glad for zer idea... but I don't know. He's alvays so... calculating. He vouldn't haff agreed so fast vithout reason." Acid grins. With each sip of Banshee's drink, his movements become less rigid and more relaxed. "I'm sure -- and that just reinforces my confidence with our plan. Commander Shockwave wouldn't oil-coat it -- if our ideas were flawed, he'd make it known. We're going to succeed, and bring victory to our cause." Banshee chuckles quietly "Remember zer Reich Lesson, mein friend. Overconfidence is more deadly zan any enemy bullet, you know?" She chuckles, taking the flask back for a sip. "Ve should fly home now if ve're goink to drink more. I don't sink I'd be good unt safe to fly after a few more." Acid Storm nods. "Let's do so. And you're right -- we must go over every detail, and leave nothing to chance. But for now -- we celebrate." Acid transforms, and follows Banshee back to base.